Chapter 10: Hidden Truths
Arata lay in bed, his forehead throbbing from the caged bird curse. The pain lingered, a cruel reminder of the clan's leash. Each time it flared, he pushed chakra against it, easing the ache just enough to think straight. He'd tried probing the curse with his inner vision, hoping to unravel its secrets, but it was like hitting a wall—his sight stopped at the seal's edge. Still, something strange was happening. The more he fought the curse, the sharper his vision felt, even if his Byakugan's range stayed stuck at ten meters.
He was puzzling over it when a knock came at the door. Hizashi stepped in, worry etched on his face. "You okay, Arata?"
Arata shook his head, sitting up. "Still hurts. Didn't expect the caged bird to be this brutal."
Hizashi's face darkened. "They wanted to break you. Just like they did to your parents."
Arata froze. "What did you just say?"
Hizashi hesitated, realizing he'd let something slip. But Arata grabbed his arm, eyes blazing. "Tell me, Hizashi. What happened to my parents?"
Hizashi sighed, looking away for a moment before meeting Arata's gaze. "I overheard my dad last night. Your Byakugan's flaw… it's not from some battlefield injury. Your parents were punished by the main family—hard. Worse than what you got. It wrecked your mom's Byakugan, and when you were born, your eyes carried the damage."
Arata's heart pounded, rage bubbling up. "Who did it?"
Hizashi's voice was low. "Hyuga Ryosuke."
Arata's fists clenched, nails biting into his palms. "That bastard…" It made sense now—Ryosuke's hatred, Mori's constant targeting. They feared him, feared he'd uncover the truth and come for revenge. His memories as Arata were patchy, missing this piece. The main family had buried it deep.
"I'll kill him," Arata growled, his voice shaking with fury. "Ryosuke, Mori—I'll make them pay."
Hizashi gripped his shoulder. "Calm down. You're not strong enough yet. If the main family sees you're after them, they'll crush you. The Hyuga run this clan like their own kingdom—nobody in Konoha will stop them unless you're a jonin. That's when the village protects you. Focus on getting stronger, Arata. For now, that's your only shot."
Arata's jaw tightened, but he nodded. Hizashi was right. Revenge wasn't just about anger—it needed power. "One day," he said, voice low, "I'll end Ryosuke. And this damn caged bird curse? I'll burn it to nothing."
Hizashi's eyes lit up. "Count me in. We'll tear it down together." He paused, then added, "But keep this quiet. If Ryosuke or Mori suspect you know, they'll come for you harder. Focus on training. Ninja school starts tomorrow—don't be late."
Arata blinked. Tomorrow? He'd almost forgotten. The thought of school, of a fresh start, pulled him out of his rage. "Yeah," he said, nodding. "Thanks, Hizashi."
"Oh, and one more thing," Hizashi said, a grin creeping in. "The clan competition's coming. You can take a piece out of Mori there. Give him hell."
Arata's eyes gleamed. The clan competition—a chance for the main and branch families' kids to face off. "Perfect," he muttered, already picturing Mori's smug face hitting the dirt.
Across the compound, in the main family's training yard, Mori stood panting, his Byakugan active for the first time. Veins pulsed around his white eyes, mirroring Arata's. He grinned, triumphant. "Arata," he spat, "at the competition, I'll crush you."
His two lackeys rushed forward, bowing. "Congratulations, Young Master! You've opened your Byakugan!"
Mori soaked in their praise, but his eyes turned cold. "Before that, though, I'll make his life miserable."
The next morning, Arata stood before his mirror, pale but resolute. The curse's pain lingered, but his eyes burned with purpose. "Today, I start changing my fate," he told his reflection.
He stepped outside, only to find Mori and his two goons waiting. "Got a problem?" Arata asked, his voice flat.
Mori's smirk faltered, seeing Arata's Byakugan. It stung—why did this branch kid awaken his eyes first? "Weeds are tough, huh?" Mori sneered, gesturing to his lackeys. "Look at you, already back on your feet after the curse."
Arata ignored him, moving to walk past. Mori blocked him. "Not so fast. You're Class A now, the clan's 'pride.' Let's see how strong you really are. Fight me, right here."
Arata's eyes narrowed. "Get out of my way. I'm not wasting time on you."
Mori laughed, stepping closer. "What, scared? You think you can just—"
"Back off," Arata cut in, voice icy. He knew from Hizashi that Mori had missed the academy exam after their last fight, too injured to compete. This was revenge, plain and simple.
One of Mori's lackeys piped up, nervous. "Arata, don't do anything stupid. Hit the young master again, and the clan head will lock you up. You'll lose your spot at the academy."
Arata's fists clenched. If he hadn't learned about his parents, he might've snapped and fought anyway, curse be damned. But Hizashi's warning echoed—revenge, not rage. Ryosuke might be behind this, using Mori to bait him. He couldn't fall for it.
"Patience," Arata muttered to himself. "This isn't about now. It's about the long game."
Mori, mistaking Arata's silence for weakness, stepped closer, sneering. "That's right, act like the branch dog you are." He swung a fist, fast and chakra-charged.
Arata caught it, his grip like iron. His Byakugan flared, a murderous glint in his eyes. Mori froze, the air heavy with Arata's intent.
"Not here," Arata said, voice low. "The clan competition. That's when we settle this." He released Mori's fist and, without a seal, vanished in a Body Flicker.
Mori stared at the empty space, his face twisting with rage. "You think you can beat me at the competition? You're nothing!"
One of his lackeys, confused, spoke up. "Young Master, why do you keep targeting him?"
Mori's glare silenced him. "Don't ask why," he snapped. "From today, you two watch Arata. Make his life hell. No peace, no time to train. I want him broken before the competition."
(End of Chapter)
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